


Attitude Education

by mrs_schoolweek



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 3
Genre: Age Difference, Anal Sex, Bad Dirty Talk, Dirty Talk, Enthusiastic Consent, First Time, Humor, M/M, improvised bondage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-07
Updated: 2017-03-07
Packaged: 2018-09-30 12:56:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10163501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrs_schoolweek/pseuds/mrs_schoolweek
Summary: Butch doesn't know how to keep his mouth shut. Luckily Desmond has 250 years of experience of disciplining cocky little punks. Butch gets a lesson of his lifetime - and loves it.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Even if Desmond calls Butch a boy, he's adult in this text, no underage undertones here. He is a boy from Desmond's perspective, since he has 250-year scale. I think this is pretty obvious, but I just had to mention it.

Butch had followed Nosebleed all the way to Point Lookout. They both agreed, however, that his precence while joining the local tribals under cover wouldn't be beneficial. Kinda opposite, actually, since he really sucked at lying and looked nothing like a tribal. Especially so, since he refused to take off his Tunnel Snake jacket. After a short and somewhat displeased conversation with Desmond, the generally displeased ghoul in Calvert Mansion and they reached a consensus. Desmond agreed that Butch could wait there for Nosebleed's return: "If he shuts the fuck up and minds his own business", that was.

Butch was able to shut up and mind his own business exactly an hour and fourty-five minutes. Looking at Desmond's carelessly styled hair pissed him off. And he really hated tense silence hanging in the mansion like fog.  
"What the fuck is that thing supposed to, old man?" he snarked, sitting on the ghoul's second favorite chair. Desmond frowned.  
"I suppose you are not talking to me, little bastard", he growled and returned to his book. Looking at the boy drove him fucking nuts: everything from his ridiculous jacket to the even more ridiculous hair was just very barely tolerable. If Desmond watched too long, he would probably spank the living shit out of the annoying punk. Or fuck his brains out. He wasn't in the mood for trying out, which one.  
"Your hair. It's like a dead poodle, man", Butch stated and subconsciously touched his own hair. Desmond grunted.  
"I am a ghoul, boy. Does that ring any bell in your pity little brain?" he said and glanced Butch's hair with disgust.  
"Besides, that's pretty cocky from a little brat who's head is like a chipmunk's ass."  
"I'm a barber, man. This is "the tunnel snake", raddest hairdo in town", Butch claimed and grinned. He was a hair-fucking-specialist. The old man was nothing but a jerk. With a pretty cool mustace. But that Butch wouldn't say out loud.  
"Tunnel snake? Boy, do you realize how goddamn obviously homosexual that sounds", Desmond rasped, trying hard not to look amused. Butch fell silent. Then he turned crimson-red and pulled switchblade from his pocket and flipped it open. The ghoul wasn't impressed.  
"I call you homosexual and you grab that butter knife like it was your cock? Boy, put that fucking thing down or I'll fuck you up", he snarled and placed his hand on the handle of his revolver. Butch blinked and looked at the ghoul.  
Nobody calls Tunnel Snake a faggot and gets away with it! Yeah, except a man with a loaded gun and the most manly mustache in the Wastes. He stuffed Toothpick back to his pocket and spat on the floor.  
"People who call other people faggots are faggots", he half-yelled. Desmond grinned and patted his gun.  
"And what exactly would you do, if an old faggot bastard would call you one, boy? Tell your fucking mom?" he said with a low, calm voice. Shivers ran along Butch's spine.  
"Fuck you, man! Tunnel snakes rule!" he exclaimed. Slowly, Desmond rose from his chair and walked to the boy. His expression didn't reveal any emotion. When he was an arm's length from Butch, he smiled wickedly:  
"What if we do just that, you cocky little punk? You'r choice: either we fuck or I'll gag you with my gun. Which one would you like more?"  
Butch's face was worth seeing. He was damn confused, so scared that he couldn't even open his mouth - and he wanted desperately to say "hell yes, both!" Desmond looked at him for a good while, enjoying the scene. Then he leaned closer.  
"Let me guess, boy. You haven't even fucked before. Just nod and I'll give you the fucking lesson you've been asking for."  
Butch nodded slowly.

"Allright, punk. How about this: you take off that fucking jacket and the rest of your clothes. Then you suck my cock", Desmond said and mentally noted himself that the boy was having a fierce hard-on. Not too afraid kid, apparently. Butch was already kicking his boots off yet he shook his head, blushed.  
"Tunnel snakes don't suck anyone's cock, man" he claimed and tugged his jumpsuit zipper open. Desmond grinned. The punk was eager. And fucking clueless.  
"Never heard of fucking lubrication? Very well, take those damn clothes all the way off and bend over the desk", he rasped and started searching through his lockers. He had lube somewhere. Because at this point, he sure had learned it was useful.  
"I'm not gonna bend over, I'm not a girl, man" Butch kept snarking. His jumpsuit was thrown on the floor, anyway. He was so damn excited and nervous his legs were shaking but Desmond's rough charisma was almost irresistible. The ghoul looked at Butch, a bottle in his hand.  
"Allright, I get it. You are a virgin boy who wants desperately prove how fucking badass member of a play gang he is. Fine by me", he growled and went to the boy, grabbing his wrist from behind. Butch jumped a little but didn't try to pull away.  
"I have fucked before your ancestors crawled to that fucking hole in the ground. You, on the other hand, have never even seen a real cock, boy. You shoving anything into me is not going to fucking happen. So I really suggest you stop blabbering and start learning", Desmond snarled and pressed Butch slowly against the table. When he tried to twitch back up, the ghoul picked up the Tunnel Snake jacket and tied Butch's wrists behind his back so quickly he couldn't resist. Not that he would have done that, though. He had always secretly wished some experienced man would teach him. He had tried to sleep with one of the guys at Vault but... Yeah, this didn't feel half that risky. Or embarrassing.

The punk had a soft, slightly chubby ass of a well-fed Vault dweller. Desmond slapped it and received a kick to his leg.  
"That won't fucking work, you little bastard", he growled and yanked his belt off.  
"What, you gonna spank me or what, old man?" Butch laughed. The idea didn't ease his throbbing erection a bit, though. Desmond barked a laughter and wrapped the belt around the boy's knees.  
"Hell no. I'm just making sure you won't hurt yourself while hurting me", he told him and tightened the thing. Then he poured a generous amount of lube on his hand. Butch shivered. His skin was flushed pink and his heart was hammering so hard he could hear it himself.  
"Fu... Fuck you", he muttered. Desmond thrusted a finger to his ass gently, making the boy moan.  
"I have one finger barely inside, punk. Stop bitching or fuck off", the ghoul snarled, pressing his finger deeper. Butch bit his lip.  
"Your hand is fucking cold, man", he said, trying not to let any more moans escape... And then he did anyway. Desmond had added the tip of another finger to his ass and oh fuck... Butch was losing it already: he whimpered and rocked himself against the ghoul's fingers, biting his lip harder.  
"Relax, for fuck's sake. Lean on the fuckin' table and stop bitching. Or do you want to know, how cold my gun is exactly?" Desmond whispered with a rough voice and pushed the boy forward. The punk was so fucking tight he wasn't even sure if it was pleasure or tension.  
"What's it about... About your gun, old man? Can't get your snake snaking?" Butch muttered. He was damn afraid he would come way before... Desmond slid third finger slowly inside and watched satisfied as the boy gasped and spasmed, his body tightening around the ghoul's touch.  
"Don't you fucking hold back, punk. My cock works just fine and I'm going to ram it inside you and you better be relaxed and loose before that", Desmond told Butch. He liked that, obviously. The boy came, cursing and twitching, all over Desmond's desk.  
"Good job, smoothskin. Real fucking picturesque."

The annoying punk sure was relaxed and loose now. That, and very sticky. Desmond opened his zipper and lowered his trousers. He started stroking himself, coating his cock with lube.  
"So it is hard for you to get hard, man? Got it, hard?" Butch chuckled nervously. His body felt so heavy and warm he wasn't sure how he was supposed to keep fucking. Desmond grunted.  
"I am a grown man, boy. I don't fucking jizz my pants every time I see a fucking ass", he answered. Based on the look on Butch's face, the punk was way more nervous about his cock than he admitted. Because yeah, he was a grown man. With a thick, necrotic, close to a seven-inch cock. And Desmond sure was able to get it hard.  
"Are you going to just stand there and charm your snake or get to it?" Butch groaned. His courage was withering quickly and cum created slimy friction between him and the desk. Desmond noticed the punk was getting nervous and added more lube to his ass.  
"Shut the fuck up, loosen up and lean forward. If it hurts, don't bitch about it. If it hurts too much, say it out loud", the ghoul instructed and pressed his tip to Butch's ass. He stirred and bit his lip. He wasn't going to bitch...  
"Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh..." Butch sobbed, squirming. That thing wasn't going to fit! Desmond held the punk down and sighed.  
"I fucking told you, stop that. Slithering around will only hurt you", he rasped and grabbed the punk's hips. Butch nodded and swallowed a sob. He didn't want to look like a bitch. Desmond grunted approvingly and thrusted slowly deeper. The boy spasmed around him so hard it hurt.  
"Stop it, stop it, stop it old man!" Butch cried out. The feeling was so intense he was about to faint or come the second time. Desmond's cock stretced him so much he was fucking scared. The ghoul stopped.  
"Listen, you little bastard. Stop squirming, relax and fucking breath. It's not fucking that hurts, it's your fucking stupid bratty attitude", he told the boy. But hell, of course the punk was scared and he wasn't going to add more to that. One ragged palm landed over Butch's back, stroking him and reminding how to breathe, as the other stayed supporting the boy's hip.  
"Sa... Says the man wi... With a... That's not even a hairdo, man. That's a hairdon't!" the punk groaned. His pulse was calmer already and yeah, he could breath again. Desmond's cock felt not bad at all, actually. Butch started pushing himself lightly against it.  
"Are you fucking kidding me, boy? I'm four inches deep in your ass and you are still not shutting up about my fucking hair", Desmond growled and started moving again. This time the punk didn't bitch half as much.  
"Maybe you aren't trying hard enough, old man. Can't beat a Tunnel Snake", Butch muttered between thrusts. His belly was warming up and his toes curled. He didn't even know if men could come more than once but damn...  
"Feel that, punk? Forget the tunnel snakings. This's how it's like when a real man rams his ghoul cock in your ass", Desmond rasped and grabbed Butch's hair with his hand. The punk felt it. He reached the peak again, winded and shivering. But this time, it didn't end. The fucking orgasm didn't end.  
"Fuck, man", Butch sobbed, his muscles tensing so hard it hurt and blood roaring in his ears. The world was all blurry and rocking and Desmond held him still when he cried.  
"Breath and let it fucking happen, boy. It's an orgasm and not a damn missile impact", the ghoul snarled. The punk tightening and rocking against him felt good but not good enough to push him ovet the edge yet. He wasn't fucking twelve.  
"Fu... Fuck me... Harder", Butch gasped. He felt so good it hurt and he was terrified of what might happen if he didn't stop coming. His vision was darkening already. The ghoul grunted. The annoying little punk didn't fucking know how to come properly.  
"I'll fuck you, boy. As soon as you man up and stop that goddamn whimpering."

Butch bit his lip and stopped whispering. Kind of. Muffled moans escaped his throat as he pressed his face against the desk. Desmond slapped his ass.  
"Good enough. Now, punk..." he started to fuck the boy a little harder, slamming his cock all the way in.  
"Fuck me like a man, fucking snaking... man!" Butch cried out, the world spinning around him. His knees went limp and his belly grasped so tight he couldn't breath. Wailing, the boy collapsed on the desk. Desmond emitted a pleased growl and dug his fingernails in the punk's soft skin.  
"I'll gag you with my gun for real, boy", he snarled with a low, animalistic voice. His cock was throbbing so hard it made him goddamn near feral. The ghoul wasn't sure, which one was better: the punk's tightness around his shaft or the idea of him sucking a revolver... He leaned down and sank his teeth to the boy's shoulder.  
"What the fuck, man?", Butch groaned. That really hurt. Not as much as the fucking felt good, though. He was slipping so deep to some kind of hot, blurry ecstasy the ghoul could have gone feral and he wouldn't mind. Desmond growled, tasting the boy's salty, fresh skin. And copper. Yeah, maybe that actually hurt a little.  
"Make sure you... Fucking remember this, punk", he managed to spit out before Butch came so hard it forced him over the edge. Butch let out a muffled "fuck". Desmond was out of words and snarled ferally, spilling his rusty seed inside the boy.

Butch lifted his head from the desk slowly. Some drying semen had glued his cheek to the surface. Desmond was putting his belt back on, cigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth.  
"You might want to stuff a rag or something to your pants, punk", he noted and buckled his belt. Butch blinked, exhausted and confused.  
"There's a gallon of jizz in your ass", Desmond sighed as he noticed the boy didn't have any idea what he meant. Butch blushed.  
"Yeah... Who told you to spill it there? I'm not a dumpster, man. I'm a Tunnel Snake!"  
"You fucking officially are, boy. Your goddamn tunnel has been opened for public. I bet you can't fucking wait to tell your Snake pal, you cocky little punk."  
Of course, Butch never told anyone how he had really lost his virginity. His version of the story included a hot, young human, badass fighting scene and somebody else's tunnel being snaked. The experience made him a lot more confident, though.  
For a while he also tried growing a mustache of his own. That prove to be nowhere as good idea as he had thought.


End file.
